


Like Glass

by quentintarrantino



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentintarrantino/pseuds/quentintarrantino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel and Dean themselves weren’t sure what was really going on, but had they been asked the only thing they could’ve said in response was “A more profound bond.”<br/>Dean and Castiel get out of purgatory but not without some damage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Glass

There are two figures standing outside Bobby’s house, in the middle of the driveway, eyes craned upwards just staring at the stars under cover of night. They stand, hands absentmindedly twined together as if it is natural, just like breathing now, they do not realize they do it and it’s as simple as gravity. The pull is irresistible and they have long since given up fighting it. They had originally come out to talk, like they do from time to time, but they were caught up in the moment and now for twenty minutes they’ve been at it, simply gawking at the heavens.

It had been a rough road lately, the trenchcoat on the left one’s back was ripped and dirty, stains that didn’t just look like mud and dust. The stains of hardship that didn’t wash out no matter how hard the one on the right had tried. The one on the right swallowed just then, glancing over at his companion and in reply their eyes clashed. The green and the blue so vivid despite the fading light. 

A light illuminates the yard as the sound of a door opening quietly makes them aware of a third presence, someone invading on this moment but they say nothing. A taller gawkier man with longer hair and impressive sideburns halts, he had been about to call them inside, Dean needed to eat, he didn’t often lately despite the chiding of the group, but stopped short. Since his brother and the angel had come back it had been different. 

Everyone had seen it but them before, the long looks and the lingering touches but when they came back it had changed, they didn’t acknowledge there was any shift and Sam had figured at first maybe it was just where they had been, it was a place that would change anyone. Until he had walked in on them.

They hadn’t even been doing anything but Sam felt as though it might as well have been catching them in the throes of an act he shuddered to think his brother and friend partaking in. Dean’s shirt had been off and he had been inspecting a cut that had grown red and infected and Castiel had been next to him, (They seldom left each other’s sides but it wasn’t needy, it was like that was just the maximum distance they preferred to stay apart from each other. Wherever one went the other followed without question, unconsciously. Cas would stand to go sit in another chair and Dean would absentmindedly shift until he was standing next to him.) as usual, looking over it as well. On Sam’s brother’s shoulder was the scorch mark in the shape of a handprint that had been there for years now, they hadn’t noticed Sam enter and they were talking lowly. 

“It’s fine.” Dean’s gruff voice was swatting away the angel’s concern.

“You should treat it.” Castiel replied back. Heated words continued until the Winchester sighed in defeat and before he could reach for the rubbing alcohol, Cas placed a hand on his shoulder, right over the red handprint, stopping him.

Sam felt incredibly uncomfortable in that moment, it wasn’t meant for his eyes to see this was private but he couldn’t look away. Dean’s tension faded right out of his body and they looked at each other long and slow before he tugged away to grab the small bottle and dab some onto a cotton ball. 

The younger Winchester felt this way now again, looking at the two on the driveway, hands joined together like they would die if they were pulled apart. Hesitantly he watched Castiel turn his head to look at the man on the porch, his face relaxed and not the least bit put off by his presence. “Do you need something Sam?” he asked, voice carrying over the dirt clearing.

Sam cleared his throat, voice wavering a bit as Dean had yet to look at him. “Dinner’s ready when you are.” he said, motioning to his brother’s back. Cas nodded once, tugging slightly on Dean’s hand so he was put off balance slightly, slumping into the angel. Castiel’s forehead was pressed against his temple as they spoke, Cas’s tone was coaxing, like one would beg a child to finish all their vegetables. The act was so intimate once again Sam swallowed, looking away. He waiting a few minutes and when he looked back up Dean’s head was turned slightly so that both he and the angel’s foreheads were pressed together, just faintly outlined by the light from inside, Dean speaking quietly to Cas. Their hands didn’t break contact.

Several heartbeats passed until they moved again, their hands unlinking as Dean turned all the way around, walking stiffly towards the house with his angel in swift pursuit. The older Winchester’s eyes were rimmed with red slightly and Sam pretended not to notice as he followed the pair in and watched them take a seat at the table, shoulders touching as Castiel watched Dean eat his dinner.

They barely spoke, the house was always quiet, Sam had never seen Dean this way, it was like he was made of glass and always Cas was there, hovering over and on the days when all that had come to pass became too much for the angel Dean stepped up. Once Sam had made the mistake of snapping at Castiel for getting in the way, tired and cranky and not thinking and his older brother had stepped between them, his jaw setting and a fire lighting in his eyes as he bit out the words “You leave him alone.”

They would get back to normal, it had to, they would snap back. There was hope yet, just today Sam had seen Dean smile. It had been when he was sitting on the couch next to Castiel, the angel had said something the younger Winchester hadn’t caught and the familiar twitch of Dean’s lips had been like a breath of fresh air. Sam would wait, it was a slow recovery but it was getting better.

Dean drank the last of his milk and set the empty glass down, chewing on his bite of pie before putting the fork on the plate and getting up from the table. He and Cas shared a room now, no one asked questions, it seemed like it was commonplace and Sam had to remind himself that this wasn’t normal behavior for the two. The way they had such a steadfast bond now seemed like it had always been there. Perhaps it had, maybe all they needed was a shove into the wilds of purgatory to uncover it.

-

Castiel shed his trench coat once they were in the room as they always did. He draped it over Dean’s leather jacket and turned to see the Winchester already laying down, facing the wall solemnly. “Dean.” he murmured, sitting next to him, the bed dipping to accommodate his weight.

“Cas.” came the reply. The angel hadn’t been sure he could feel heartbreak until these last few weeks with Dean. The empty shell he had once been, the normal glow only returning on rare occasions, all he had seen weighing him down like dumbbells wrapped around his neck. With rough hands that Castiel were sure were his own (Jimmy Novak had had clean smooth pale hands that belonged to an office worker) he turned Dean’s head, cupping his jawline to force their eyes together.

“Dean.” and with that the Winchester took a heave and Cas pulled him into his arms, they slept like this every night, because Dean had a nasty habit of waking up yelling and thrashing. The first time Castiel had sustained a nice black eye because he wasn’t aware, now he knew.

Neither seemed to care anymore what Sam thought, no doubt he was drawing his own conclusions and they may or may not have been right. Castiel and Dean themselves weren’t sure what was really going on, but had they been asked the only thing they could’ve said in response was “A more profound bond.”

A more profound bond indeed, the angel pondered as he remained sleepless, Dean’s face buried in the crook of his neck. Castiel’s fingers tangled in his bedmates hair and the Winchester’s breathing even. It was the only way he slept soundly now.  


End file.
